Negra is a grumpy old lady. I have a feeling she’s been a grumpy old lady since she was born.
Mind you, we didn’t even know Negra until she was 35 years old. We met during our first trip to the Buckshire Corporation in Pennsylvania, back in 2007. Technically we didn’t even really meet her that time, because she hid behind the solid panel of her cage during most of the visit. My only memory of her from that initial encounter was the sight of her fingers reaching through the food slot, signalling that it was time for more peanuts.
During subsequent trips she started to come out of her shell, but only slightly. She was aloof, overweight, and severely arthritic. Her skin was ashen. In contrast to the others, who studied us intently, spat upon us, and even invited us to play, Negra remained largely disengaged. She seemed to have given up long ago.
Near the end of our final visit, we emerged from the stuffy, windowless basement in which they were kept and removed our PPE. We sat on a nearby picnic table to cool off and began talking about what we thought life might have in store for Negra and her six companions once they made their cross-country journey to Chimpanzee Sanctuary Northwest. Everyone agreed: Negra was in such a state that if we could just give her one year in sanctuary, we would consider it a victory. It felt like a big if.
For Negra, everything about her life in sanctuary was new. As far as we know, she hadn’t seen the sun or breathed fresh air in decades. As an infant, she had been captured in Africa and shipped to the United States for use as a biomedical research subject. She spent much of her life at the infamous Coulston Foundation in New Mexico, where she was bred to produce more chimpanzees for research and where she underwent regular dartings, biopsies, and surgeries as the subject of hepatitis vaccines safety trials. She had given birth to three children, all taken from her prematurely (and all, thankfully, later released from research as well – Angel and Noah now live at Save the Chimps in Florida and Heidi lives at Chimp Haven in Louisiana). When we met Negra at Buckshire in 2008, she was in a tortuous state of limbo: no longer leased to other laboratories for active research but needlessly confined to a barren cage nonetheless.
The sanctuary in 2008 was still a work in progress. But despite the outdoor area being still unfinished, Negra’s new home gave her room to walk and climb as well as sunshine and nearly endless vistas from every window of her two-story playroom. Somehow, seeing her in the environment of the sanctuary made her sickly state that much more apparent. At the lab, it was to be expected. At the sanctuary, and in the light of day, it was a shocking contrast.
We learned early on that Negra does things in her own time. And by that I mean some other time. Her bed—one of the many simple comforts she was never afforded—became a protective cocoon, the one place where she finally felt safe. We counted ourselves lucky on the rare occasions when she emerged from it to grace us with her presence.
Time passed surprisingly quickly in those early days. As the first anniversary of the chimps’ arrival rolled around, we toasted the fact that Negra had achieved her year in sanctuary. She had done it! And yet, rather than feeling like a the happy ending we envisioned, it started to feel more like a new beginning.
Two years later, we were able to complete the larger outdoor habitat where Negra, at the age of 38, finally stepped all the way outdoors.
It was a big deal to us. Her reaction, on the other hand, was a resounding big whoop…Bed was much warmer and softer, anyway, and far less chimpy and peopley.
But over time she would come to enjoy the outdoors as she does everything else: In her own way and on her own time. She only took advantage of the lower quarter of the 2-acre enclosure, perhaps fearing the thought of being so far away from the comfort and security of the familiar. Still, it was always exciting to catch her outside. Calls could be heard over the staff’s two-way radios whenever she emerged: Negra is outside! Negra is outside! Upon hearing the news, everyone would leave their tasks momentarily to watch her bask, however briefly, in the morning sun.
Negra has now had far more than the single year we had hoped to provide to her in sanctuary. In fact, she has now lived for over 15 years outside that hellish basement. And somehow she actually becomes younger with each passing year.
Last spring, as I was walking to the chimp house, I saw a lone figure moving through the tall grass at the very top of the hill, as far away from the building as you can get. I grabbed a camera with a telephoto lens and raced to catch up, partly to document the occasion but mostly because I couldn’t believe my naked eyes. When I reached the top I saw Negra atop the climbing tower, looking out across the Cascade Mountains and nibbling gently on a pine bough. At the age of 49, she was still recovering, still making progress, just as she does everything else: in her own time.
Of course, neither time nor experience in sanctuary have softened the old lady. Negra, now 50, is still a grump. And she’d still prefer the comfort of a warm nest to an outdoor adventure any day.
But who are we to tell a chimpanzee how to live? I’ll always find joy in witnessing those moments of courage but I recognize that sanctuary means different things to different people. For Negra it means peanuts and lettuce, sweet spring grass, a troll doll companion in the summer, peanut butter food puzzles, wrestling with her friend Burrito, a heaping pile of blankets, an occasional walk through the grass, and, perhaps most importantly, the freedom to choose among them as she pleases.
It’s a life made possible by those who have supported this sanctuary, with a special thanks to Negra’s Pals, Vicki, Monica, Chris & Lee Ann, Donna, Kathleen, Sharlene, Star, Stacey, Lorna, Jean, Melissa & Bruce, Jenny, and Alice.
You can be Negra’s Pal, too, and give this grumpy old lady the Valentine she deserves.
I think out of all the chimpanzees, Negra’s transformation is the most stark and marked. When I was painting her portrait for one of your earlier auctions, I remember crying over it as I had done with Burrito’s. My bf mentioned something I hadn’t realised about myself: folks probably don’t realise how much I bleed over every piece of art I produce, and it was in painting those two chimps that I realised just how true this is. Each curve of her face; each glance of those sad, beady eyes; each brush stroke of my pencil, highlighted her pain and torture, and I can’t help but feel that deeply. Seeing just how small that &*#!%% cage was, even now, makes me angry, and yet, reminds me of just how far she’s come.
Knowing that excessive sleep for humans is usually a sign of deep, deep trauma and can be very healing, and seeing how much she still enjoys her own bed years after her rescue, reminds me of the untold pain she still carries that none of us will ever know.
Neggie’s a survivor, straight up. Maybe that’s why I identify with her so strongly. And if all she has the strength to do is sleep and enjoy a little spring grass, then that definitely is a win for you guys.
These chimpies couldn’t be in better hands. :cupid::purple_heart::gift_heart:
Carla, I so agree with what you said regarding Neggie being a survivor. She is a superhero survivor. Negra may not be leaping from tall buildings like Wonder Woman Missy (also an amazing survivor!!), but Negra has superpowers in her desire for life’s everyday comforts. Sometimes the simplest pleasures are the best.
I also want to tell you that, as a proud owner of your beautiful illustration of Negra with her lilacs, I can see and feel your love for her every time I look at the image. You brought Negra to life. That’s a rare talent.
Miss Kathleen, I can’t tell you how much it means to know that she brings you this kind of joy each day. One of the reasons I think I was drawn to photorealism and hyperrealism is because I wanted to bring the subject to life for this very reason. I studied for doctorates in Astrophysics and Applied Mathematics, but it’s being a fine artist that gives me incredible joy, hearing how that painting has uplifted and touched someone’s daily life.
Burrito’s owner sent me a photo once of the painting of him hanging at the bottom of her staircase and how it’s the first thing she sees each day she comes down, and how it gives her incredible joy.
These kinds of things make all the bleeding and tears SO worth it. :blue_heart::green_heart:
JB thank you for providing that background story on the Queen. I’m crying both for the sad tale but also for the fact that she is now free to have a choice on how she can spend her days and can receive good care as well. Bless her for all the sacrifices she endured at the expense of human ignorance and barbaric practices.
Oh Negra, you are my perfect Valentine :revolving_hearts:
What a Sanctuary success story!
These are my favorite blogs, the Be Mine posts! i learn something new about them every time. Queen Neggie is no different. I love that she moves at her own speed and the beat of her own drum. love her
I really appreciate the recent blogs where we hear not just how well the chimps are doing, but also how they struggle. These chimps have had horrific past lives and this impacts who they are, today, despite the exquisitely wonderful care they are now receiving at the sanctuary. Trauma does lasting damage to all beings– and it’s happening all over the world– please, let’s be real about this.
Thank you, J.B., for today’s moving blog post. Moreover, thank you for saving Negra’s life. As I’ve told Diana, as the song goes, “We can be heroes…if just for one day”. And you were.
And so you remain. If you describe Negra as grumpy, it is also true that Negra must hold you in fond regard. I’ve seen her greet you with her grunts and her drooping lower lip.
I revere and adore Neggie, and when she appears to be enjoying life, I know that the CSNW is achieving its mission.
Another deeply heartbreaking story …I still can’t imagine what those laboratory people had for hearts and souls! Dear old Negra has every right to be grumpy, but to see her under a big pile of blankets or sitting in the sun eating Spring grass, one blade at a time, is wonderful. I will be forever grateful to her for inspiring me to enjoy lettuce!
Neggie just has the most beautiful, soulful eyes. Knowing and wise, but a little mischievous. She certainly has found the CSNW fountain of youth. She looks nothing like the pale, weak, sickly Negra that arrived 15 years ago.
After all of the trauma she’s been through, being taken from her wild home, likely seeing her mother killed in front of her, forced to give birth over and over, isolated completely…. It’s enough to break anyone’s spirit. But when I see Negra now, I don’t see a broken spirit.
I see her as The Queen of CSNW. As a wonderfully grumpy old lady who will still surprise you with her occasional adventures and bursts of energy. As someone who enjoys her rest and relaxation, but who also can’t resist the allure of fresh spring grass. I have to admit, I even love when she enacts her royal tax and swipes some forage from someone else. Even today, she’s still healing and growing and challenging new things at 50 and that makes me so happy.
Neggie works smarter, not harder 🙂
Just another queen, exacting tribute!
There isn’t anything I can say that hasn’t already been said above, all of which I was thinking after reading the blog. However, there was a question on my mind the past few days that this blog now prompts me to ask. Since each of these chimp people were in separate cages at Buckshire, at what point were they integrated – before or after the trip to CSNW?
I’ve asked that before. I think the response was that they suspected that Missy-Annie Annie-Missy had roomed together at one point.
But I also have wondered if that blending happened magically overnight
Not likely that it happened overnight, after seeing how the integrations of the current groups went. And it’s possible that they did cover it in a blog way back before my time.
Hi Cindee – For most of their lives, they lived alone while on a research protocols and in pairs when not. We were told that they were integrated into a group of seven two years before we took them in. In the photo above, you can see four separate cages, but they are connected by guillatine doors. So when we arrived, they shared those four cages.
Less than one cage each!!??!! :frowning:
Thanks for clarifying the living space at Buckshire, J.B. Wow. I never actually understood this. I imagined each individual had their own too-small-to-live-in cage. Like Linda said….. 4 cages for 7 chimpanzees?! Honestly. I can’t phantom the lack of empathy and compassion in people who think this form of cruelty is acceptable for any living being. My heart breaks even more for my seven dear friends knowing this. And my heart mends, thanks to you and Diana and Keith and everyone who saved their lives.
The Divine Queen Negra. Resting on high in her greenhouse kingdom as her loving and loyal subjects tend to her every need. May she forever be draped in plush blankets. May her claps always deliver nut bags and goodies to her feet. And may her anticipation of sweet spring grass be the spark that fuels her to venture to the tippy top of Young’s Hill to contently nosh away to her hearts delight. And…..I hope Negra continues to grow beyond her comfort zone to surprise us with feats of brilliance and bravery. Long live our Queen! May she continue to age in reverse.
It goes without saying (because I say it so often!), I love Negra so deeply it hurts. Rescuing Negra from the inhumane cruelty and suffering she was forced to endure for the first half of her life saved her—physically, mentally, and spiritually. What a gift, to totally change the life of another…for the better. Your love, compassion, and dedication know no bounds.
Thank you for providing unimaginable opportunities, choices, tastes, comforts, and relationships for Negra and her family. In their darkest days they could never have dreamed what magic was brewing in Cle Elm, WA. Sanctuary is a dream, a wish, a heartfelt plea come true!
sanctuary home for my beloved Pal.
Neggie may be (with reason) the grumpy old lady, but she’s also the one who came over to the humans at Jody’s wake, to see if you guys needed some reassurance…she’s the one who will try to calm down the fight with the final pant hoot. … and she’s the one who teaches all about respect for elders.
Love this Lady! Precious capture in the new spring grass, she looks like she’s smiling. Grumpy, not sure about that. Like me, she drew a line somewhere along the way (probably while still at the lab), that she just went, I’m Sick of the BS! I have a custom cap that says that. She knows and appreciates the life you’ve given her, but parts of the life she had probably still resonate within her. While we both find joy in things, we just want to be left alone for the most part. I too prefer to stay cozy in my nest, than deal with the outside world. I don’t think that makes me grumpy, but instead someone who values uninterupted peace. Thank you for all you have done to give all the Chimps an opprtunity to live their lives the way they choose to. I think that’s what we all want.
I felt this deeply, Kim!
Tears are running dosn my face as i write, with pure anger, disgust at our species, who claim to be enlightend, sadness and lastly, pure joy in seeing Negra, a truly beautiful wee old before her time, lady with an amazing wee budda belly that i admit i would love to sit and poke her wee belly and hear her beautiful laughter. I know she now has freedom as much as possible and choice, and may she have many many years of this and as many blankets snd soft new grass as she could ever want. I wont say what i want to so to “them”!!